Panic

I am told these endless tales

Myths and legends, of how I prevail

Tell me where then, this strength you cite-

has gone, and why I feel so frail?

At any moment my blood will stop

It will back into my skull and pop

Dripping down each empty socket

Breaking my rib cage and pooling my pockets

Back the way it was before

The days I was dying, the dreams I abhor

The memories of childhood stitched up and fixed

A traumatic memory, I endless resist

WHY

CAN’T

I

JUST

REST

Liability

The tiniest sliver is far too dark; a piece of my heart

Too sharp, too sharp

I cannot believe it, the words are a lie

Who would want someone as broken and dangerous as I?

Please let go now before I trust too much

Please walk away before I need you and you run

I find it hard to even want myself

So how could someone else,

someone else?

Has my trauma changed its form?

A deadly illness, starving-worm

Am I cursed to walk the earth, a

New impossible every morn?

Why can’t I leave the shadows behind? They change

Their shape

And follow me

I hate their voices, despise their smiles

But I can’t stop letting them crawl

All

Over

What can I do

To finally be free?

Someone tell them I’m

Done wandering

Quedar

Who doesn’t, won’t, and wants to be

Could I, would we, sweet disease

Want a new dollar, a shiny time-piece?

Me and my people can never be free.

As I sit still and the dripping-day starts

I cannot see past the daylight’s bright heart.

Am I a fool, or just on my own?

?Will you come to free me or leave me in stone?